Mitternacht

[black-masamune.livejournal.com]

Who: Sephiroth, open to villains
Where: Midgar's Plate
When: Midnight
Rating: PG for practice fighting and stuff

The lights of Midgar had once been astonishing to view from the windows of the ShinRa building. Anyone gazing out from one of the upper levels could see the multitude of house and building lights in the sectors above the Plate. The streets had always been densely populated every night with the lively, and more wealthy, folk who lived there.

That wasn't the case anymore. While some areas of the once proud city, such as the Slums, were under reconstruction, the vast majority was still in ruins. Only the lights of Edge could be seen from where he stood on the Plate. Midgar might as well have been a ghost town. It was a sight that made Sephiroth laugh, to say the least. Exactly what the accursed city deserved.

"To think I used to like living here." Sephiroth grumbled. Masamune was in his hand, and he so ached to use it on something. Anything really. Since fighting Glenn he had had the urge to just slice something to ribbons. Exactly what was a mystery. 'If only I knew where that damn clown was.' That thought lightened his mood somewhat. He didn't want to kill Kefka before the timing was right, but nothing bad ever came of "sparring" and unintentionally cutting off an arm or leg in the process.

'If only that little brother of mine were here. He's strong enough to avoid the worst blows, definitely.' he thought.